


Swiftly Fly the Years

by jncxo



Series: Changes [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Express, Hogwarts House Sorting Ceremony, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, post-Epilogue: 19 Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 23:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jncxo/pseuds/jncxo
Summary: Vignettes and one-shots of Albus Severus Potter's first year at Hogwarts: new friends, studies, adventures, and pranks. Disregards 'A Cursed Child'.





	1. Sweets

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the summary, this is not entirely canon compliant, and will completely disregard the events of A Cursed Child.
> 
> Chapter 1 takes place immediately following the Deathly Hallows epilogue, 19 Years Later.

“Come on, Al,” Rose urged, tugging on the collar of his sweater. He followed her down the corridor a short distance until she muttered, “There!” and ducked into a train compartment. Albus followed warily. 

“I knew I wouldn’t be rid of you for long,” James groaned from the window. He sat across from their cousin Fred, who was emptying his pockets into James’s open hands. Albus noted what looked to be an owl talon, a red gummy spider, an eyeball, and several capsules in varying colors resting in his brother’s palms.

“What are all those for?” Albus asked, taking a seat next to Fred, whose grin spread clear across his mischievous face. Rose sat next to James and studied his handful curiously.

“Prototypes for Dad’s shop. He’s bought a place in Hogsmeade, and he’s developing more products for it,” Fred replied smoothly, snatching the gummy spider back from James and dangling it in Rose’s face. She squealed and batted it away like a cat. “Relax, Rose, it’s just _cherry_ ,” he admonished. “You won’t get sorted into Gryffindor if you’re afraid of a little candy.”

“I’m not!” Rose snapped indignantly, crossing her arms across her chest. “I just don’t like nasty git-faced boys who throw bugs at me.”  
  
Fred merely smirked and turned his attention back to James, who was examining the eyeball. It spun in his palm, roving its blank gaze around the compartment. “That’s a ‘Mad Eye’, that is,” Fred informed him. “You just plant it somewhere, and it’ll keep watch for you – I’ve the eye patch somewhere in my trunk – and you can spy on people from somewhere else. _That_ ,” he continued, referring to the yellow capsule James had just picked up, “is the newest addition to the Skiving Snackboxes. Sugar Sneeze. Dad said when he was testing it out, he sneezed so hard he almost blew his –” He paused, eyeing Rose. “ – well, er, that’s not important.”

“How about this, then?” James asked, exchanging the yellow capsule for blue with a red stripe around the middle.

Fred’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “We’ll be saving that for quidditch trials,” he said cryptically, and James shrugged and returned it to his palm with the others.

“And what does the owl talon do?” Albus asked eagerly.

“Oh, er, that’s just an owl talon.”

Albus lost interest in his cousins’ conversation about what each of the little sweets and gadgets did, and his thoughts drifted back to what his father had said about the Sorting Hat and about it taking into account in which house each person most desired to be. He’d heard enough tales of his father’s time at Hogwarts to know that not all Slytherins were bad, and not all Gryffindors were good. He’d developed a growing fear over the summer months, however, aided mainly by James’s teasing and stories of students he knew in Slytherin house (which the rational part of Albus’s brain told him were simply too far-fetched to be true). Of course, it was so easy for James to joke about, as he already had a year of Hogwarts under his belt and had joined every one of their older cousins in the Noble House of Godric Gryffindor. But what if Albus _was_ in Slytherin? He would be separated from the family in a dungeon common room, where he felt he likely wouldn’t fit in. He wouldn’t be able to sit with his cousins at mealtimes or partner in classes with Rose like he’d planned. And – he gulped – what if he would have to play against James in a quidditch match someday? He couldn’t let that happen, he decided resolutely. No matter how much he had to beg the Sorting Hat, he _would_ be a Gryffindor.

Albus was so deep in thought, he barely noticed Rose trying to get his attention, until she kicked him hard in the ankles. “Look,” she murmured, nodding toward the compartment door. The two watched as a pallid, nervous looking blond boy wandered down the corridor of their car, very much resembling a lost puppy. “Come on,” she said suddenly, hopping out of her seat and sliding open the compartment door.

“What?” Albus blurted, confused. Rose’s mane of hair had already whipped around the corner, and Albus stood and shuffled after her. 

“Hey!” Rose said, and the boy stopped and whirled around, as though he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. She approached him slowly. “You’re Draco Malfoy’s son,” she said, more a statement than a question. 

The boy nodded. “Scorpius,” he introduced himself quietly.

“I’m Rose.”

“And I’m Albus. Albus Potter.” Albus paused for a beat. “You’ve heard of my dad, right? Harry Potter? He’s told me a lot about you, and your dad –”

As Albus spoke, Scorpius’s face flushed a startling crimson, and he ducked his head and spun on one heel, hurrying along in the opposite direction.

“What d’you think that was all about?” Albus asked Rose quietly, watching Scorpius’s retreating form.

“I’m not sure,” Rose said slowly, her brow furrowing. “I thought we might invite him to our compartment, he’s likely not found a seat yet…” She trailed off, looking put-out. “Oh well." 

The two returned to their compartment to find James in a rapid-fire sneeze fit and Fred rolling around on the floor, laughing his head off.

“You – have – to try – one,” Fred managed between guffaws, holding out a yellow capsule. Albus and Rose met each other’s eyes and, unable to contain it, each snorted with laughter. Fred snatched up a stray green capsule from the seat, barely discernable among the pile James seemed to have deposited next to him, and wrestled with his cousin for a moment before finally, with some difficulty, depositing the antidote in James’s mouth. James gave a single final sneeze, spraying snot out onto his sweater sleeve, and joined in the dissipating laughter.

“Owl Uncle George immediately,” James instructed Fred, grinning, “and tell him that stuff had better be on the shelf by next year or I refuse to go to Hogsmeade.”


	2. Now That That's All Sorted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sorting Ceremony is effective at sealing everyone's fate.

“SLYTHERIN!” 

A silence fell across the Great Hall following the proclamation, and Albus peeked open one eye, immediately regretting the action.

His gaze first fell upon Rose, who stared at him wildly, mouth agape. His eyes flicked across the group of first years still waiting to be sorted, all of which shared surprised glances. Next was Gryffindor’s table; he picked James’s stricken face out of the pack almost immediately. He couldn’t look at his brother for too long – it almost hurt, the disappointment evident on his face. Finally he settled on the table of Slytherins, who seemed to be conflicted in their responses; a few were grinning, some were in disbelief, and one older boy with dark hair was shaking his head, brows furrowed. The young Malfoy boy, Scorpius, was seated closest to him, at the empty front of the table, peeking up at him curiously through the blond hair that had fallen across one eye.

The Sorting Hat was lifted from Albus’s head, and in the next second, a hollow-sounding round of applause, led by the staff table, began its slow journey across the Great Hall. Albus worried his lower lip with his teeth, but tried to keep his chin held high as he scooted forward off the rickety stool and made what felt like a kilometre-long journey to the Slytherin table. He hesitated before taking a seat on the bench next to Scorpius, who went stiff as a board.

The next first year was called for sorting, but several students murmured in the background, a hum which echoed in Albus’s ears. In a split second of indecision he had, he supposed, sealed his fate; he’d wondered, while sat upon the stool, whether or not the Sorting Hat had made the wrong call with his father? _What if Harry Potter had been in Slytherin?_  

Albus didn’t think the Hat was of the vindictive sort, but, despite being the child of a modern wizarding legend, he reckoned this had to be the most eyes he’d ever felt on him at one time, and they’d gone shopping as a family in Diagon Alley multiple times.

“I never thought the sorting was this huge of a deal,” he mumbled to Scorpius, absently tugging on the end of his plain black tie.

Scorpius didn’t respond for a moment; Albus had just begun to turn to watch Turing, Helios be sorted into Hufflepuff, when Scorpius stuttered out, “Yeah, well, most of them are probably just cheesed off you’ve gone and ruined their betting pools, they’ll get over it, I’m sure.” 

Albus couldn’t help his small bark of laughter at the other boy’s comment; Scorpius even smiled a little, which was an improvement over the way he’d avoided him on the train.

“I wanted to be Gryffindor,” Albus told him after a moment, quietly. 

“Me too,” Scorpius responded, as the Sorting Hat called Vance, Ariadne into Ravenclaw.

Before Albus could think of a response, “Weasley, Rose!” was called forward, and he sat straight up in his seat, holding his breath, as his cousin marched resolutely up to the stool. Her brow was furrowed and she sat, brows furrowed, looking uncharacteristically gloomier than her usual spirited self. Albus felt a pang of guilt in his gut. The squat professor holding the Sorting Hat reached forward to place it on her head; it barely touched her curls before barking out, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Whoops sounded immediately from the direction of the Gryffindors, likely orchestrated by his brother and cousins, and Rose stood from her seat, offering Albus the briefest of pitying glances before prancing forward to sit with her new house.

Albus couldn’t help the jealousy that burned in the pit of his stomach; hadn’t they had a talk about how houses weren’t as important as the people in them? That every student had talents? Had she not just tried to include Scorpius on the train – a boy whose parents they’d heard stories about growing up, someone they knew would likely be sorted into Slytherin anyway? Albus knew rationally his cousin was likely just as surprised as he felt, and maybe she would just need time to recover, but he wasn’t expecting to feel so excluded, not when this was the night to be welcomed into the school, the place he’d be spending his next seven years.

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius offered him quietly after a moment.

“Why?” Albus asked, turning his head away from his celebrating relatives and back to the blond boy to his right. “The Sorting Hat said himself, this is where I belong.”


End file.
